Songs of My Life
by Faithful Magewhisper
Summary: "Music is my life line ... and I have sung my heart out over the course of my life." Memories following a near-fatal accident. Non-chronological scenes from Emily Gilmore's life.
1. Prologue

A.N.: I'm always inspired by music for my stories. This is one of two stories where I let you in on my inspiration. This story depicts non-chronological scenes from Emily Gilmore's life (with guest-starring of all the other characters from the series, of course). Enjoy the ride and please leave me some reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own this wonderful charcaters - the belong to Amy Palladino and Warner Brothers. No infrigement intended - I just borrowed them to have fun with them.

**Songs of My Life**

Prologue

Both my daughter and my granddaughter are absolute music lovers, trying to work through their emotions with the words of a singer rather than finding words of their own. I laugh at times when I hear them reciting lyrics or humming a melody , some of the songs known to me … despite those two claiming I'm outdated. Their inability to talk about their feelings they get from me – another similarity I share with my only child that she adamantly refuses to see. Lorelai truly thinks that I was always the stern, forbidding woman she made me out to be. It hurts more because she believes her own tales, she's been telling anyone, who listened or was near enough to hear, about me. Often I have to clench my fists and bite viciously on my tongue to stop me from blurting it all out.

The pain.

The disappointment

The anger.

But also the laughter.

The teasing.

The singing.

For I am like her.

Music is my life line. It makes everything lighter, easier to bare. And I have sung my heart out over the course of my life – accompanied by both tears and laughter.


	2. 1 Distraction

1. Music is … a Distraction

I was driving in my car – to another function my family thought useless – through heavy traffic and was getting rather fed up with it all. Ever since the separation from Richard I was even more short-tempered than usual – oh yes, I could admit to my fault … even though it was just to myself. This lunch-on today was a tad bit silly and my presence wasn't necessarily required, but it was something to do – other than sitting in an empty house and contemplating the fact that both people I held most dear in my life had left me.

Huffing to myself in frustration, I tried to think of something else, but it was to no avail. The more I tried to stir my thoughts away, the more Lorelai's and Richard's voices echoed in my mind.

_"__I knew the mental illness in your family would catch up with you." Richard._

_ "__Try to talk with him … really talk." Lorelai._

_ "__You never listen … you just dictate. You make the same mistakes with me that you made with Lorelai!" Richard again. _And these two sentences had sliced into my heart deeper than him calling me a prostitute, him not apologizing to Lorelai for the sake of our relationship with her, him moving out to the pool house … him not saying 'I love you' for a long time … him not having time for me … him not making love to me in far longer than I care to admit …

Now tears threatened to fall and I desperately tried to swallow them, trying to save my make-up and my dignity. I would be damned if I shed more tears over a lost cause as I already had. Richard had made it clear that I held no place in his life anymore … that my opinion held no meaning to him. Admittedly, Lorelai tried to interfere and negotiate, but she didn't understand and we had enough baggage between us than for me to burden her with the truth. She was all grown up and still I wanted to protect her as best I could. She needn't know that I left her father because of her – or that she had been the last straw at the very least. It wouldn't do any good.

In an almost desperate attempt to dispel the tears and get my mind off things, I turned on the radio. No classical music or even show tunes for me today – it just wouldn't do the trick. I needed another reason to be indignant and the modern pop culture was a good output.

As soon as I turned on the radio I had found my first victim. Some rap song was playing and the bass beats were already giving me a headache. A few seconds more and I couldn't take it any longer. Glancing down, I located the dials and reached to switch to another station. It was just as atrocious: Country music. Well, at least it wasn't derogatory to my health. The tunes were quite catching, to be honest.

Seeing that the cars in front of me were still not moving an inch, I looked down again to switch to yet another station. I had just stretched out my hand when I heard the screech of breaking tires sliding over concrete. And the next moment I felt the impact of a heavy and large object colliding with the trunk of my Jaguar.

I can't recall more because that is the last thing I conceived before darkness engulfed me.


	3. 2 Wake-up Call

2. Music is … a Wake-up Call

Things slowly began to filter through the darkness into my brain. Music filled my ears and for the moment I believed everything to be fine … I couldn't have been more wrong as I found out mere seconds after the first conscious thought.

My chest felt constricted and I had considerable trouble breathing. As I tried to open my eyes to see what was pressing on my chest, a moment of panic gripped me as they wouldn't open at first. Taking a deep breath – as deep as I could manage – I tried again. This time I was successful. Slowly, excruciatingly at that, my eyes cracked open and I found myself slumped over the steering wheel – that would explain the constricted chest and the shooting pain as I tried to move. For a moment fear clutched my heart. What if I had broken a rib and it would puncture my lung if I moved? Was help on the way? What exactly had happened? How long did I have to wait? … Who would inform Richard and Lorelai of my d-death?

Tears gathered in my eyes and the full impact of my current situation hit me. I could die here. I wouldn't be mourned at my funeral. I had driven away the people I love.

My life was in shambles. My soul in ruins … and now my body mirrored that.

For a moment I let fear, desperation … and yes, hopelessness over take me. I simply gave up … for the first time in my life … until I heard the next song on the radio.


	4. Challenge

3. Music is … a challenge/call to fight

There had been a time when I had very nearly given up on my own happiness in the past … well, two events to be honest. But this song always reminded me of that first time I had felt shattered beyond repair. I had found out about Richard's engagement to Lynnie Lott, that mouse. I felt not so much anger or sadness, just a deep sense of betrayal. Richard and I had promised each other to be honest and not make this relationship according to our parents' rules … but he had failed me. On both accounts he had lied to me.

One way or another I'm gonna find ya

I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha

one way or antoher I'm gonna win ya

I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha

one way or another I'm gonna see ya

I'm gonna meetcha meetcha meetcha meetcha

one day maybe next week I'm gonna meetcha

I'm gonna meetcha I'll meetcha

I will drive past your house and if the lights are all down

I'll see who's around

One way or another I'm gonna find ya

I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha

one way or antoher I'm gonna win ya

I'll getcha I'll getcha

one way or another I'm gonna see ya

I'm gonna meetcha meetcha meetcha meetcha

one day maybe next week I'm gonna meetcha I'll meetcha

And if the lights are all out I'll follow your bus downtown

see who's hanging out

One way or another I'm gonna lose ya

I'm gonna give you the slip

a slip of the hip or another I'm gonna lose ya

I'm gonna trick ya I'll trick ya

one way or another I'm gonna lose ya

I'm gonna trick ya trick ya trick ya trick ya

one way or another I'm gonna lose ya

I'm gonna give you the slip

I'll walk down the mall stand over by the wall

where I can see it all find out who you call

lead you to the supermarket check out some specials

and rat food get lost in the crowd (one way or another I'm gonna getcha)

Where I can see it all find out who you call (one way or another)

where I can see it all find out who you call (one way or another)

where I can see it all find out who you call (one way or another)

oOoOoOo

"I saw you going out with that bear of a man," Sweetie teased me. She had a merry twinkle in her eyes and was obviously enjoying herself at my expense. Very unladylike I stuck my tongue out at her. (To this day I hate being teased – something Richard is so fond of.) It was her favorite pastime.

"So what if I step out with him?" I shot back, clearly showing that I was in no mood to indulge her hobby. Either my eyes must have been shooting off sparks or she was truly concerned for me, in any event her stance and features softened. All of a sudden I didn't want to know what she had to say on the subject. "Don't … just forget it …"

It was meant to sound foreboding, but it sounded rather weak and pathetic even to my own ears. Sweetie, being the dear friend that she was, softened even further, but delivered the blow nonetheless. She lived by the philosophy that bad things were better indured when told by a friend, who comforted you later on. I never truly believed her. Bad news were bad news … period.

"I saw him last night. He was visiting the new Bach concert the Yale orchestra put on that Preston took me to. Since it was boring me to tears, I had a chance to look around and noticed him sitting there. He was with another woman …"

"I don't want to know, Melinda!" This time my voice was more forceful. The use of her full Christian name also indicated that I meant it, but she obviously had more to get off her chest.

"Later, when we met him and his companion in the foyer, he introduced her as his fiancée, Pennylynn Lott, to us."

I was very quiet and apparently it wasn't the reaction Sweetie had expected of me. In all honesty it wasn't the reaction I had expected of me, but I was numb. My hands were cold and clammy, no blood was being pumped through my body for it had turned into ice. A deafening roar filled my ears and Sweetie's face before my eyes became suddenly blurry and unfocused. I'm ashamed to admit that I fainted dead on the spot.

oOoOoOo

For days I was devastated. Every night I cried myself to sleep. Neither Sweetie nor Hope could say anything to make me feel better.

Richard had betrayed me, had taken my love and thrown it back in my face. What was the heights of his deception, was that he showed up the next day to take me to the same concert. He didn't even have enough imagination to come up with something different. It clearly showed where I ranked in his list of priorities.

It also irked me that he thought so little of me and my reputation to make me into 'the other woman' of loose morals and no standards. I was a good girl of my time and upbringing; I would never have allowed him to corrupt me … even though, at times, the temptation had been great and very nearly unbearable.

For those reasons I refused to open the door for him, refused to hear his feeble explanations, refused to talk about him … and stubbornly tried to refuse acknowledging how hurt I really was …

To be absolutely honest I was heartbroken. It truly felt as if Richard had torn out my heart with his actions and shredded it into pieces, brutally stomping out all emotions. Under different circumstances I would rage, throwing things and screaming in the private sanctity of my apartment, but all I felt was a profound loneliness.

After two weeks Melinda had had enough. She finally snapped at me. At the time I was angry at her, but in retrospect I can admit that it had been what I needed to hear at the moment to stop wallowing in self-pity.

"Emily, if that man is really worth all this crying and moping, don't you think, that he is worth fighting for?" she had asked me exasperated. "Stop this nonsense and get up. If you want him back, go after him, make him fall in love with you all over, make him forget Lynnie the mouse. You are so much better than she is … so start proving it!"

I had stopped crying, from sheer surprise at her words, but they had struck a chord. Melinda was right; Pennylynn Lott was a plain-looking mouse of a woman. Richard had often remarked that I had a certain fire and that I was unlike any other woman he had ever met before. It was high time to remind him of that.

oOoOoOo

I knew that Richard's sorority had a party on Friday night and that Richard had said that he would definitely be there, because the Wiffenpoofs were supposed to sing the sorority song and thus open the party. I planned to be there and never let him forget that evening.

Blue had always been my favorite color, because everybody told me it made my vibrant red hair stand out. I regarded that to be my most attractive feature. Shortly before I had found out about Pennylynn, I had bought a new blue dress for this very evening to make Richard proud of having me on his arm and to impress his friends. It had a tightly-fitted bodice and a full skirt that stopped just above the knee. The highlight of the dress (and the reason I had hesitate buying it before Sweetie practically forced me) was that it was backless. It was risqué, but I was feeling daring.

"One way or another, I will know where I stand with him after tonight," I muttered to Sweetie before I raised my chin, squared my shoulders and strode into the room.

And the rest, as they say, is history.


End file.
